FRANKLIN FURTER'S MATTERS OF THE HEART

Dear Franklin,
I enjoy your column and the insightful advice you have to offer. Last weekend my girlfriend went hiking in the Great Smokey Mountains with some friends. She really is a peach. The problem is that while hiking, she encountered some poison ivy. She is highly allergic, and it has spread pretty fiercely on her calves and thighs. I am not allergic to it, but she insists that we cannot have intercourse until it has healed. She is going as crazy as I am, but we don’t know what to do. Perhaps you can help.
Thanks a lot and keep up the good work.
Itching for some lovin’ in Norfolk, Virginia,
Mitchell Moore
Dear Mitchell,
Wow, thanks. This is the first nice letter someone has sent me. This really makes it worth it. Well, let’s see. Why don’t you just cut a small hole in an old sheet, and let the sheet act as a poison ivy barrier between the two of you? Wait a second. I just thought of something. I actually had to do that myself one time. It was quite nice and all but, this is just too real. Things aren’t supposed to go this smoothly. There is supposed to be some sort of comical set-up with which I can make a buffoon out of either myself or you. Hmmm,.. I’ve got it! Maybe you should just amputate her legs! Ha! Uh,.. wait. No, that sort of violent and sexist humor really isn’t funny. I seem to be at a standstill here. Hmmm,.. I think I’ll have to get back to you on this one, Mitchell. Sorry I couldn’t help in a humorous manner. Maybe next time.
Dear Franklin,
The wife of my boss was out of town last weekend, and my boss and I spent the whole time screwing like some sort of simile, which would indicate or infer a large gluttonous quantity. I told my boyfriend I was hiking in the Great Smokey Mountains. To avoid the repulsiveness that is my boyfriend, I scrubbed my legs with scouring pads and told him I had poison ivy. He completely believes me. That’s not the problem. It’s just that my legs really hurt. A lot. I can’t even wear pants without crying from the intense pain. (Nuts. This isn’t working. Like anyone is actually going to believe this second letter isn’t just me trying to salvage that last stale letter. The letter wasn’t funny. I have to accept that. Not all of the readers are demented wonders. So what if nobody laughed. Maybe for once I actually offered some useful advice to someone. Maybe I helped someone. Wait, forget that last part. I just thought of something.) So, like I was saying, my legs really hurt and stuff, so I tried some lotion, but that just made it worse. So I was wondering, do you think I should amputate my legs?
A Lady Who Lives In A Town Somewhere In The South
Dear Lady,
It’s really quite comical that you wrote this letter, and that you wrote at the same time Mitchell wrote the letter he wrote. If I didn’t know better, I might think you were Mitchell’s,.. never mind. This is too humiliating.
HAVING PROBLEMS WITH MATTERS OF YOUR HEART? EMAIL FRANKLIN HERE FOR ALL THE ANSWERS.